Get me outta here!

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Why Should I be Good?

Team Name: Maximus Dramaticus




Read the previous part here: Past Diaries Open Up


“Well. It’s a haunting story. A story that will kill all the goodness that still remains in your heart.
Would you still want to know?
Are you sure?
Are you?
I won’t keep any secrets except the secret itself.

Ha ha!! No pun intended.

But why should I?
Have you ever cared about me?
Rather leave me aside, have you ever cared about a roadside beggar in the truest sense.
What moral rights do you have to dictate your terms and they have nothing else, but to live accordingly?

Indiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…!!
We are such a huge country with 1.2 billion population but who owns all the money?
The aspiring and successful people like you.
And what do people like me get?
Nothing except the disrespect that you throw at us.

You want to hire me for a night for your sensual pleasure?
Not anymore, you bastard, not anymore!

I will change the rules of the world!!
Do you get that?
Are you listening?
Why are you not replying?!
Are you afraid of me?
Aren’t you?
Oh My God!
You look pale and cold and blue!
The Razor blade did the job fantastically!
A clean shave indeed!
I love this colour…
The Rich Deep crimson Red!
I want to paint the whole world RED!!
And My Paintbrush is…Not a secret anymore!
Now you speak no more!
I have already punished you for your sin.
You are dead!
When all the freaking bastards like you will be dead, that will be the day of jubilation for us!!”

The Lady with the Razor had struck once again after 2 sensational murders in the Capital city of Delhi. A different place, a different personality, but modus operandi all the same. Who would have believed such a ghastly murder close to New Delhi Railway Station in the wee hours, but the death knows no limitations. And it was not all that she had planned. This was just one in a chain of 9 murders in the months on July-September’12.

.........................................................................................................................................

“Jenny, I was missing you all the time since you left Ladakh. You were the reason that a shy Cyrus turned a poet and started a blog of his own. Have you read that first blog post of mine? That I wrote when I was this chubby.” Cyrus explained with joy indicating towards their childhood picture.

“Cy, how could you remember me since then? I can faintly remember you that too after knowing your part of the story. So what else I do not know about you Mr Writer?” Jenny asked.

“Well, not much except that there is much more in the blog than meets the eye. About that sometime later, Jenny. It feels really nice to be with you once again. After these occurrences of Monday Nights, I was really afraid and quite alone but since you have come, I feel calmer and I am more committed towards solving the case.” Cyrus replied with concern.

“Dear Cy, I can understand you and trust me, I will be here till we solve the case and put all the sinners behind the bars.” Jenny was all the more concerned with Cyrus.

Cyrus heaved a sigh of relief and headed back to Chuna mandi with a resolve to share forensic report findings with Tara.

.........................................................................................................................................

Tara was relieved after talking to Aryan. She was so stupid to not call him at the first place when she came to Delhi. He was such a helping and trust-worthy guy that He would have helped them timely and they might have been back to Mumbai by now. Better late than Never!

She went to sleep with little Roohi beside her. She was missing Shekhar. Since last few days, He was really upset and was returning home at odd hours. Tara had no idea where he goes? What exactly he is doing? But she was concerned.

.........................................................................................................................................

Shekhar was bothered since last few days. His past was haunting him. Whatever he did was for a better future with his sweetheart Tara, but it was all getting messed up more and more. Dealing with Samantha and Paresh was taking a toll over him. He so wished both of them dead and case put to close. But it was not going to happen with Cyrus and Tara pushing up the case. He was not inherently a bad person, but he knew the difficulty of being good.

“Why be good in a world that is inherently bad. What’s the point of being good anyway? Be good, do good and you will never be understood. Being good serves no purpose. Why should I be good? If I can get away with it, why not be bad? I am no God. I am vulnerable. I have my limitations. I want to make my family happier. I want to dream bigger. I am good so long as it serves my self-interest. I am good to beloved Tara and little Roohi. But I’ve grown mature and subtly selfish, I realize that it is more beneficial to me that others are good. Anyway I will decide what is good for Me.”, Shekhar was talking to himself while waiting for someone. He was searching for a ray of hope in the gloomy night deep within.

.........................................................................................................................................

The sky was lit up with the morning Sun. Birds were twittering, a serene breeze was flowing outside. Cyrus was waiting for Tara to be free so that he can share the findings of Forensic Report. These disturbing incidents had made him impatient. Little Roohi was still sleeping with her paintbrushes and drawing book lying beside her. Cyrus, out of curiosity, took her sketch book and started turning pages.

She really loved to do paintings and some of them were really awe-inspiring. Then he came across a particular painting and his face turned pale. He was shocked to see this in the drawing book of little Roohi. He thanked God for if Tara would have seen that painting, she might just have known more than he wanted her to.  He tore the page and kept it in his pocket.

.........................................................................................................................................


Read the next part here: A Good News to Share

“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

आख़िर किसे फ़र्क पड़ता है..


वो हर एक शख्स जो मुझे आजमाता है,
क्या वो मुझे जानता भी है?
जिस कदर खेलता है मुझसे,
क्या पहचानता भी है?

अपनी मर्ज़ी से मुझे छूता है,
छेड़ता है, कचोटता है;
प्यार भी दिखाता है और
नफ़रत भी करता है |

जब मन आता है,
अपने फायदे के लिए इस्तेमाल करता है,
और नुकसान के डर से छोड़ भी देता है |

चाहे नर हो या मादा,
सबका है दोष आधा-आधा;
आख़िर मैं हूँ क्या ?
क्यों मुझे हरदम नीलाम करते हो?
जब खुद पर बन आती है,
आख़िर तभी क्यूँ डरते हो?

कहते सब मुझे अपना हैं,
मानता कोई भी नहीं |

मैं सबका अपना निजी स्वार्थ हूँ |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जिसका अपना एक बाजार है |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जिसका चल रहा व्यापार है |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जो आज भ्रष्टाचार है |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जो सचमुच बहुत बीमार है |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जिसे बोलने वाला मरता है |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जिसे बोलने से पहले एक इंसान सौ बार सबर करता है |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जिसको बोलने का साहस लोगों में कहीं खो गया है |

मैं वो सच हूँ,
जो अब बर्दाश्त के बाहर हो गया है |

पर अब जो हूँ, जैसा हूँ,
हूँ तो आख़िर सच,
तो बोलूँगा भी वही |

एक और सच कहूँ?

बुरा तो नहीं मानोगे?
खैर मानोगे भी तो, 


सच रहेगा तो सच ही |

कहते तो हो -
' सत्यमेव जयते नानृतं |'
पर क्या सच में??

खैर...

जाने दो |
आख़िर किसे फ़र्क पड़ता है |



Sunday, September 14, 2014

I Warned You!


Team Name: Maximus Dramaticus




Read the previous part here: The Warning


“I warned you, you nasty bastard!”

Shouted the lady clad in white standing behind him. She was holding a razor in her hand, soaked in deep red blood. It was the same lady whom Cyrus saw the other day.

The sight was terrifying, the silence of the night was deafening. His heart sank with fear of death and he wanted to scream, but his voice betrayed him. His face turned pale, he stumbled and hit his head on the basin and fell unconscious on the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cyrus woke to the irritating sound of Alarm ringing somewhere. He so wished that someone switches off that irritating sound, but it continued ringing. He was lying on his washroom floor. He tried to search the source of the sound as it was coming from somewhere in the washroom itself. The irritating sound persisted.

It was his cell phone ringing alongside the basin. He tried to stand up but he felt unbearable pain in his legs. He was lying on a pool of blood which emanated from his left leg. It was deeply cut due to his sudden fall over a sharp-edged object.

‘Please shut the fuck up, you goddamn phone!’, He yelled to himself and collected all his strength to find out who the hell was calling.

He wanted to scold the person on the other side with all the nasty, disgusting words. But as he got hold of the phone, his screen was flashing name of his professor, Paresh Bohra. He rubbed his eyes, saw the time on the phone screen. It was seven o’clock in the evening. He picked up the call.

“What are you doing since last an hour? I have tried your number so many times.”, the frustration was visible in voice of Professor.

“Sorry Sir, I was sleeping and the phone was in silent mode.”, Cyrus preferred to lie.

“Cyrus, If there is anything serious you are engaged in, then please let me know. I called up to know your progress with the case. I hope you are working on it. Are you?”, Asked the professor with concern.

“Sir, I will come and discuss with you some serious findings regarding the case tomorrow.”, replied Cyrus gaining his composure.

“Well, See you then.”, responded professor and disconnected the call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jennifer was out to meet someone since the afternoon. She was worried about Cyrus as she knew he was really innocent and these Monday night incidents would have filled him with dread and fear. Hence she came to Delhi as soon as she heard from him but there was someone else as well whom Jennifer promised to meet when she comes to Delhi and she was on her way to fulfill the promise. 

Jennifer was really confused and wanted to know who was behind this mystery. The person she was going to meet might also help in her pursuit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Cyrus was sitting in his study and reviewing the case. It happened two years back and involved some serial murders in the city. The case involved some big mafia dons of Delhi specially the Don who controlled Mafia activities of Central & West Delhi and dealt with smuggling and human trafficking. He was arrested under an alleged prostitution case and was set free due to absence of any proofs against him.

The serial murders happened over a two-month period each involving some soon-to-be-famous personality. Nothing succeeds like success, except of course the murderer involved in these cases as he succeeded in his evil motives before they could taste success. Interestingly, Murdered loved to kill and put his killing abilities to display after each murder.  

9 Murders spanning across 2 months happened over 9 different locations – Pusa Hill Forest, Karol Bagh, New Delhi Railway Station, Daryaganj (Delhi Gate), Vikram Nagar (close to ITO), Connaught Circus, India Gate, Khan Market and Lodi Colony in that order. It seemed like a puzzle to Cyrus. There were many questions raising in his mind –

What was the motive behind these murders?

Was there a puzzle to be solved and a open mystery behind these 9 murders?

Is there a connection between the serial murders and the bitch killings?

Cyrus had answers to none. His leg was still paining despite bandages and medication. But he felt motivated to solve this case and find out the real culprits and exact justice to them. He was also missing sweet Jenny. He opened his phone lock and dialed her number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lallan was a fair skinned, tall and handsome guy with muscular physique. He came to Delhi 15 years back from Lucknow where he was charged with 5 murders but was set free under influence of a politician whom he served each week with young females imported from Nepal. 

He was a bad guy with a tainted image, but he loved it. He loved to see fear in the eyes on others. In last few years he had made New Delhi as his fiefdom.

He used to work secretly from different locations in Delhi supplying all kind of narcotics to rave parties and drug addicts in NCR, Haryana and Rajasthan. The house inherited by Shekhar from his distant uncle was one such secret location. 

Basement and Ground Floor of the three-storeyed house and the house adjacent to it were given on rent to some Kapoor & Sons which was nothing but another identity for Lallan to accomplish his malign motives. Chuna Mandi was close to Paharganj and hence a prime location for Lallan’s business to flourish. 

He wanted complete ownership of the house and had, hence, contacted Shekhar regarding the same under false pretence of opening a guest house over there. Though that plan failed but for someone like Lallan, there is always a Plan B. He was intently working on it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December nights are chilling in Delhi and after such a night, Sunrise is pleasing. Shekhar and Roohi were de-boarding the flight from Mumbai to Delhi. Roohi was excited to meet his mother and surprise her. As always, she wanted to play a game of hide and seek with her dear mum. 



But Shekhar was concerned, it was out of concern that he came to Delhi to find out what is happening. He was a loving and caring husband. They took a cab from Delhi Airport to Chuna Mandi while he messaged to Cyrus telling him that as per their discussion the previous night, he has come and will be home in a few minutes.

As soon as he disconnected the call, He saw that a call from Tara has gone missed. Shekhar told Cyrus explicitly to not tell Tara about his arrival to make her happy with a pleasant surprise. It might just be a routine call, he thought. He called her back.

“Hey Sweetheart, Good Morning!”, Shekhar exclaimed with joy.

“Dear, There is something that I need to tell you. I have found something in one of the locked rooms. This ought to be something serious. I am desperately missing you. I wish you were here!”, there was anxiety and distress in her voice.

“Tara, please do not panic. I and Roohi have just reached Delhi and wanted to give you a pleasant surprise. I will be home soon.”, Shekhar disconnected the call and told the cab driver to drive faster. 

Shekhar’s heart was pouncing fast as he badly wanted to know what is it that Tara has found out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read the next part here: Old Deeds Come Alive

Illustration sketches by Arvind Passey

“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

Saturday, September 13, 2014

मधु मुक्तक

बंद अभी करता मधुशाला,
अब न पियूंगा बिल्कुल हाला|
साकी की आँखें प्यासी हैं,
हा! ये मैने क्या कर डाला|

**********

नशे में बोलती हैं आदमी के दिल की आवाज़ें,
होशवालों की ज़ुबान में आवाज़ नहीं होती |

**********

तेरी नज़रों के पैमाने लुढ़क गये हम पर,
वरना हम यूँ नशा नहीं करते |

**********

कल जो लब से पिलाई थी उसने,
हम अभी भी उसी असर में हैं |

**********

सुबह सुबह बोतल शराब की बातें,
ये तेरी इंक़लाब की बातें;
होश आएगा भूल जाएगा,
हैं ये सारी ही ख्वाब की बातें |

**********


Friday, August 30, 2013

ब्रह्मचारी की अन्तर्व्यथा

इक लौ देखा जब तुझे भरकर दिल में प्यार,
इक लौ जल उठी प्रेम की, हरसा दिल इक बार।
इक लौ मेरे प्रेम से तोड़ी तूने तार,
इक लौ ही काफ़ी तुझे करने को रतनार।

प्रेम मेरा शालीन था, द्वेष तेरा पथहीन;
प्रेम मेरा शीतलमलय, तुम थी पयसविहीन।
निष्फ़ल मेरा प्रेम है, जाना मैं रसलीन;
जीवन मेरा हो गया, जल बिन जैसे मीन।

कृमि नहीं, पशु नहीं, अधम नहीं मैं,
पापी, व्यभिचारी, कामी भी नहीं मैं।
फ़िर हे नारी! क्यों किया मुझको दुखारी?
अब रहूँगा जन्मभर मैं ब्रह्मचारी।

Friday, August 2, 2013

अब वक्त ने बदला है पासा


अब वक्त ने बदला है पासा,
बनना है लोहे से काँसा।
काँसे से बनना है सोना,
सोने से फिर कुन्दन होना।
अब समय नहीं घबराने का,
यूँ ही पत्थर बन जाने का।
गलना होगा, जलना होगा;
इन राहों पे चलना होगा।
ये राहें राह दिखायेंगी,
ये वक्त सुनहरा लायेंगी।।

जय हिन्द


है चाह कि ऐ माँ! हो तुझे फ़क्र भी मुझपर,
ये जिन्दगी कुछ तेरे लिये काम भी आये।
ये जिन्दगी है आज, रहे ये या न रहे,
पर जिन्दगी में ऐसी एक शाम भी आये।
जब बात छिड़े तेरे चहेतों की भारती,
नीचे ही सही, उसमें मेरा नाम भी आये।।

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

चल अकेला, चल अकेला


सूरज की लालिमा से रात की कालिमा तक,
पूरब से पच्छिम तक, उत्तर से दक्खिन तक,
चलता चला जाता हूँ, बस चलता चला जाता हूँ।
भूल गया राह मेरी, पथ नया बनाता हूँ,
बस चलता चला जाता हूँ।
क्या किया?
क्यूँ किया?
कब किया?
कैसे किया?
सोच नहीं पाता हूँ।
क्या गलत?
क्या सही?
क्या गगन?
क्या मही?
बस प्रश्न नया पाता हूँ।
चलता चला जाता हूँ।

छोड़कर वह पथ पुराना, भूलकर सारा ज़माना,
ज्ञान गीता का लिये जब एक पथ मैंने चुना था।
सोचता था राह होगी ये सुखद, शीतल, सरल;
पर बन चुका यह अग्निपथ, यह देखकर माथा धुना था।
मानता हूँ, राह सारी एक सी होती नहीं,
पर चलें जिसपे महाजन, पथ वही सबसे सही।
था नहीं समझा कि जब गुरुदेव का एकला सुना था।

रास्ता होगा, सही होगा, वही होगा,
साथ चलने को मगर तैयार, कोई भी नहीं होगा।
चल अकेला राह पर, तज मोह, माया, कामना;
होगी मंजिल तेरे सर, पहले तू अपना मन बना।
हारने के बाद बाजी जीतते हैं सब यहाँ,
चल अकेला, चल अकेला; पथ तू अपना खुद बना।
होगी मंजिल तेरे सर, पहले तू अपना मन बना।।